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Chapter Twelve:
"I don't understand the point of the arts," Alex said.
"Spoken like so many politicians," Miranda said as the family toured the Smithsonian Art Museum.
"But what does it do?" he asked.
"It is about eliciting emotions," she said.
Rachel stopped at a life-scale painting of a ballet dancer.
"She's pretty," she said.
"So, what?" Alex asked. "What value does it have beyond a single emotional response?"
"Look more closely guys," Miranda said. "Look at her costume, the expression on her face. The angle of her feet. Is it accurate? Does she look happy? What might she be thinking?"
"She's just pretty," Rachel said. "I don't see the appeal beyond how she is just pretty."
Miranda sighed. "Let's look at something else. Where is your father?"
"Shark-Girl," Rachel laughed and pointed.
"Now that is just absurd!"
They hurried over to the exhibit.
"No running!" Miranda said, mostly out of habit, knowing that there was security all over the building.
"Spencer?" she said softly as she wandered around. He was with them only a couple minutes ago.
Then she didn't see him but knew where he went. She followed the bars of light into a closed-off structure. There were lights hanging that constantly buzzed. There was the hiss of showers. The rhythm of pounding feet. She had entered a cell block.
The cells with bars that could be peered through contained different objects. Miranda didn't care. She was looking for Spencer.
She found him in one could be accessed. He was sitting on a cot staring at the walls. There were family drawings on them.
"Spencer?" Miranda said and took a seat beside him
"I was never allowed drawing materials," he said. "I could have ripped a page out of a book and turned it into origami but I wouldn't."
"I think you would eat a book as a form digestive help, before you'd rip one apart for such a purpose."
He smiled but wasn't looking at her.
"I nearly died here," he said as tears dripped down.
"Let's get you out of here," she said grabbing his hand.
"That's what my friends saying," he said as he started to shake.
"Spencer," she said turning to face him. "I'm not just your friend. I'm your wife. I'm the future you found after prison. And we're in DC in an art installation while our kids try to debate how to meld the physiology of a shark and a human to form shark girl complete with dress and red shoes."
Reid looked at her and recognition slowly came back.
"Let's get out of here," he said.
"Gladly," she said.
They walked out as the kids found them.
"Cool," Alex said. "A prison exhibit. Can we go in?"
"No touching anything you shouldn't touch," he said confidently.
"I don't want to go in," Rachel. "Were you in one like this one Daddy?"
Reid leaned down. "Yes, and it is scary, but nothing in there can hurt you."
Alex walked in and Rachel looking between them, chose to follow her brother.
"They need to learn," Reid said as he watched them. "Prisons serve a purpose in society."
"I can't believe I didn't know this was up here," Miranda said.
"I did," Reid said.
"Why didn't you say anything?" she asked. "We could have had the secret service shut down a different art museum."
"It is the closest, I'll ever be to going back," he said. "I wanted to see how I could handle it. Not well, apparently."
She wrapped her arms around him. "You didn't need to test yourself. You survived, you are the bravest man I know. I love you Spencer."
"People expected me to be the same after that and I don't think I ever met those expectations."
"You don't need to meet those expectations. You survived. The only thing you need to be is Spencer Reid."
Reid pulled her forward. "Thank you," he said.
"For what?" she asked.
"Being perfect the way you are."
"I'm not perfect. Perfect impossible and boring," she said.
Alex and Rachel emerged.
"You could actually go in one of the cells!" he said.
"It was sad," Rachel said. "There were drawings of families in there."
"Different emotions, different experiences," Miranda said. "This is the point of art, Alex."
"Can we go to the Air and Space Museum next time?" Alex asked.
…
The next day, Fleming presented her with a copy of The Washington Outlook. The cover contained a photo of her and Reid embracing. The headline was: "Tender Moments"
"It is hard to make up bad publicity about your family with photos like that."
Miranda ripped the cover off and turned it into an airplane.
"Find who took this photo and make sure they are fired from their job," she said and threw it across the room. "I never need that kind of extra publicity. Love is love."
Author's Note:
There was a prison exhibit in a museum near where I live and it was even more graphic than what I described. I saw it years before the show.